Ghosts
by paulajaey
Summary: How does Agent Clint Barton cope with settling back into S.H.I.E.L.D. life? A while post-Avengers.


_I'm never going to get Loki out of my head_, Barton thought as he walked through the new and improved S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New Mexico.

The guilt he felt whenever he saw the other Avengers, whenever he walked through HQ, whenever he talked to anyone who knew him; it was eating him up from the inside.

Not that he showed it. He tried to make it appear as though nothing changed, as though nothing happened. Only Natasha knew what was really going on in his head. And she was the only one on the team who understood. She didn't need to press; she just knew.

Then, all of a sudden, Barton saw him.

_Loki_.

Clint ran down the hall to where the god of mischief stood only a second before.

_Where did he go?_ He asked himself.

_How did he even get here?_

The archer kept looking, ducking in doorways, sprinting to a new destination every few seconds, getting quizzical looks from whomever caught a glimpse of the man.

Then, Clint saw Loki go through a doorway, into one of the housing rooms.

_Gotcha_.

When he got to the stainless steel, sliding door, it opened for him, without the key, and he didn't even hesitate to think something was wrong. He just walked right in.

The room was pretty standard for S.H.I.E.L.D.: a desk with a lamp and a chair to the left of the door, a closet to the right, a bed going length-wise from the right of the closet with a bedside table and another lamp, and a bathroom right across from the foot of the bed.

Nothing caught Barton's senses at first. Until he heard the sound of running water.

He stealthily made his way over to the bathroom doorway.

Quietly pulling out his knife, he walked up to the shower curtain and whipped it aside, thinking that whoever was haunting him was behind it.

A head with short brown hair turned around to where Clint was standing, a face registering surprise at first, but quickly became angry.

"What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed.

Taken aback, Clint wasn't expecting to see what he saw and stepped backwards a step, putting his hands up in defence.

She turned her body to face him, her hands on her hips.

"I asked you a question," she said, getting annoyed.

"Um, I…well, I was just…" Barton stammered, scanning her naked body in quick blinks, not knowing where to look.

She stared at him, unimpressed.

"You Avengers think you can do anything and get away with it."

He wasn't stuttering anymore.

"Do you want a towel or something?" he said in a hard, somewhat mocking tone.

She smirked.

"Well, I wasn't quite done with my shower, but since I was so rudely interrupted, sure."

Turning off the water and stepping out of the tub, she took the towel out of Clint's outstretched hand.

"Thanks," she said, roughly towelling her hair, quickly patting her body dry, and finally wrapping her body with the fabric.

Looking up, she said, "You didn't answer my question."

Grey, stormy eyes looked into bright but brooding brown ones as Barton warred with himself.

"I thought this was my room," he explained, "It's been a while since I've been at HQ, especially with the new renovation. This is where my room would've been."

She studied him for a good minute, pondering his answer.

Then she shrugged, suddenly indifferent, walking towards her closet.

"Alright then," she began, "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but you don't have to lie to me."

"Who said I was lying?" he asked.

"Please," she said, "I know when someone's lying to me."

Facing him, she continued, "Especially after that look you gave me back there."

He panicked on the inside.

"What look?"

She paused for a moment to consider his question.

"Well, you seemed determined," she said, continuing to go through her closet. "The way you snapped the curtain away. And he surprised expression I saw right after, like you weren't expecting me."

Mentally punching himself, Clint started to say something when she kept going.

"Plus, you were holding a knife."

Gazing down to his hands, she added, "And still are."

Looking down, he saw that he was, and sheathed the dagger.

"You're pretty observant," he said, trying to change the subject.

Now clothed in the standard uniform, towel on the floor, she faced her intruder once more.

She shrugged again.

"Don't you have to be, to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Getting no answer to her rhetorical question, she said, "Great talk," while walking to the door.

"See you around, Agent Barton."

Standing alone in her room, he realized he didn't even know her name.

* * *

**~*Author's Note: Hi guys! Still trying to figure out how to format...but I hope you liked the story. It's just a quick one, since this is my first. I won't be continuing it, as you may have noticed. I'm not sure I'm allowed to do this here, but if you would like to continue the story/use it as inspiration or as a prompt, I would be honoured! Send me a message if you do so I can read what you've come up with!**


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